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Dec 2016
Why do we pretend,
To care for one another,
What do you have to prove?
I would respect you more,
If you dropped this ruse,
You become so infuriated when I tell the truth,
Anger taking over you,
It must **** you inside to face your mistakes,
You play the perfect mother,
Claiming there can never be another,
To take your place.
Arrogant you are,
Oh so arrogant,
Only for the hell of it,
You are not who you claim to be.
Look at me.
I am a broken child.
Descending into adulthood,
All the while never knowing why,
You always favoured them,
Why not me instead,
The least you could do is share the affection,
Treated them as a blessing,
While I was the cancerous infection.
Written by
Harley Quinzel  London
(London)   
71
 
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